Lisa Padgalskas

Author / Thinker / Visualizing a Better World

Dear GiGi,

You’ve been gone a long time now, but I always feel our connection when I write to you. Somehow I know you can see my words and feel my heart. Funny. You can say something out loud, but often it’s soon forgotten. But when you write it down, it’s like it’s there forever.

Did you know I love to write? Even as a kid, I’d disappear into my bedroom for hours trying to figure things out. It was my escape from a turbulent world I didn’t understand, my way to create a space which was safer, more accepting of a shy, self-conscious, skinny little girl who always got lost in the crowd. I’m sure I’ve told you all that before.

I’ve written so many stories, and a lot of them are about you, GiGi. In fact, what I really wanted to tell you is I finally finished my book! It’s called MILO IN THE SKY, and It’s about a lot of things. It’s about love and friendship and philosophy, and what things might be like when we die — or in the in-between world before that happens. But I guess mostly it’s about how people can lose one another, then find each other again.

The reason for the title is that Milo’s in a coma. And it’s there, while he’s in the coma, that he experiences a strange and vivid alternate consciousness among the stars and galaxies. It’s where Milo finds meaning, and answers to questions about why life is so hard, but beautiful, too. Meanwhile, his wife Addie, who’s a reluctant healer, is afraid to try to awaken him. As you know, when she tried to heal someone once (well… it was you) it didn’t work out so well. Though your death devastated Addie, I think that’s what you wanted to happen.

Anyway, GiGi, you’re in this book a lot too. How could you not be? You’re the wise old grandmother who helps Milo find his way. You’re his sage, his guiding star.

Writing this book has certainly been a journey. It’s been a process of pouring out my heart and soul onto blank pages. It’s struggling to find the right characters and words to produce the story I wanted to tell, a story that I hope will connect and resonate with another person. That process of thinking, writing, rewriting… it takes a long time, as I’m sure you know. Then, when you finally put it out to the world, you’re taking a chance. Will people like it? Will it even get published? It’s scary, but I’m doing it.

And then there’s the readers — cherished people who open themselves up to that experience of another person, or perspective, or culture. Reading, I think, is an act of curiosity, of an open heart, of acceptance of the person who wrote it. Readers are people who invest their time, and they trust the author has something valuable to say that might shed light on some of the perplexities of this existence. Mostly only my good friends have read my book so far. But I’d really like to put it to the world.

Well, goodbye for now, GiGi. I love you and I miss you. I really do.  Isn’t it strange, though?  As the years go by, I feel more and more connected to you. Even more so than we ever were on earth. I know you understand.

Love, Me